I have been obsessed with reading Rhiannon Bosse's blog (if you haven't heard of her, visit her site here: http://rhiannonbosse.com/ ) I love how honest she is with her business life and personal life, and how they work together hand in hand. It's something I relate with and one of her posts in particular really resonated with me, called "How Motherhood Changed Me". I loved it so much that for the last month, I've been thinking and reflecting on my own life and how I've changed since bringing Beck into this world and naturally, I thought it would be fun to write my own version. So here it goes:
Beautiful images of us photographed by Alison Epps Photography
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Welcome to Curated Picks! I am so excited to share my favorites from home decor to fashion picks for fabulous photography outfits. Today I want to share a few finds featuring winter apparel that would make for the most stunning outfits for your portrait session with any photographer.
First up, neutral creams and blush designer gowns. These looks would look so romantic against fluffy winter snow and have just enough texture and color to stick out against all the white.
Marchesa Notte V-Neck Flutter Floral Gown
David Meister Three-Quarter Sleeve Embroidered Sequin Gown
J. Mendel Blush Embroidered Tulle Gown
Next, statement designer gowns with a pop of flair. These are statement gowns that get noticed and would pop against any background, snow included.
Halston Heritage Satin & Organza Tiered Degrade Gown
David Meister Floral Floor-Length Gown
Dress The Population Violet Off The Shoulder Chiffon Gown
For those of you who aren't afraid to dress in color, these gowns are for you.
Solace London - Alette Strapless Color-block Plissé-chiffon Gown
David Meister Embellished Floral Applique Gown
Jenny Yoo Cold Shoulder Chiffon Gown
Gowns under $200
Joanna August DC Halter Wrap Dress
Jessica Howard Ruffled A-Line Gown
Maya Long Sleeved Maxi Dress with Delicate Sequin and Tulle Skirt
My Baby is One. I'm officially a parent of a toddler. I don't know how this happened but I do know there were a lot of sleepless nights, tons of cuddles and even more laughs.
We threw him a "Where the Wild Things Are" party complete with cakes (sadly, he was scared of the cake and wasn't into smashing it), a tent and lots of balloons. The lunch menu was build your own tacos so that the nursing mothers that had allergies could pick and choose and everyone could still eat what they loved.
Cakes: Astonishing Cakes
Macarons: Honey B's Macarons
By far, this has been one of the weirdest two weeks of my life. Some people could say it's been a "bad" two weeks but I honestly don't let one bad thing ruin the rest of my day. But holy moly, I've been asking myself "what is happening?" for almost three weeks:
We started the year out sick. Really sick. And then we celebrated a baby shower. Days later, we learned of the loss of a life. Days after that, news came of the arrival of a friend's new baby. Within these two weeks-ish, I've also booked 3 weddings, made plans for three out-of-state trips, one of which will last two weeks road-tripping by myself with a one year old across the country (not crazy at all, right?), and have been patiently waiting on news that could impact our lives greatly (and we're still waiting to hear yes or no on). I truly believe God gives you what you need at that exact moment and everything happens for a reason. So maybe what I'm about to write will bring a smile to your face and that was why it happened. Or maybe it's to show me to not take life so seriously. Either way, there was one day last week that I need to share:
The night before, my husband tells me, "I think the dryer is broken." In the back of my head I said, "Great. Bad things come in threes. What's next?"
The next day, he starts to take apart the dryer. He discovers the heater coil is broken in half and it was sparking. It must have been doing this for awhile. We're honestly so lucky that the lint sitting next to it never caught on fire. While he did that, I felt an urge to go to Ikea, aka the worst place on Earth. Every single flippin' time I go, I'm reminded of why I hate going and will avoid it at all costs. But then time happens and you forget and BAM!, I find myself back there cringing and cursing at myself. This trip was no different, in fact, it was worse. As I walked in, there was a lady wearing pajamas in front of me and she turned her face slightly - I noticed she was wearing a mask. For a second, I thought, maybe she has a weakened immune system and SHE is the one that can't get sick. And then she started coughing. She looked white. She was clammy. She quite honestly looked like she contracted the zombie virus and was in the process of turning.
I immediately started walking in a different path, getting away from behind her - because you know, pathogens in the air and I don't want to be 'down-stream' from whatever crazy crap she could have. I start looking at the different wine glass options for our newly built bar and I kid you not, there's ANOTHER person with a face mask on. In total, there were five different people (not together, or at least I could tell) that were shopping with face masks - all of which showcasing flu-like symptoms.
My skin WAS CRAWLING. Why did I do this to myself?
So I get through and start to check out. I'm using as much hand sanitizer as I can and trying to not breath as I smile at the lady counting my 13 hangers. I pack all my randomness up in my 99 cent blue ikea bag and start to walk to the elevator. And in walks the zombie lady - WITH NO MASK ON.
I stood in the corner of the elevator and looked at her with stunned eyes. I tried to be a wallflower - I wanted to flatten myself just to get one extra inch of space to stay away from her. I so badly wanted to put my shirt over my face. I wanted to be anywhere but that stupid elevator. WHY did I have to buy the side table and get a cart that couldn't fit on the escalator?!?!
And then it happened. The elevator stopped. The doors didn't open. And the guy in the elevator with us laughed and made a comment about how he hated Ikea and he could barely get all his crap INTO the elevator and now we'll never get out. Zombie lady with NO MASK ON starts to cough. She is hacking up a lung, not wearing a mask and the Z-Virus is being recirculated within this huge metal box we are now stuck in. I wanted to tell the male next to me that this lady is turning and we need to put his ginormous boxes in between us and her.
Ten minutes later, an Ikea co-worker gets the door open and we go about our way. I get into the car and text my husband that I just got done, what just happened and that I might die.
There were several stops on the way home, all of which were weird. World Market's gift card buy for $25 turned into being charged $250 because the lady didn't know how to work the computer, resulting in them closing my line, sending guests to a different checkout and eventually calling the manager because she didn't understand I wasn't ok with $250. I then walked around the car parts place like a chicken with it's head cut off trying to find a window repair kit for the new little cracks because that morning's drive resulted in my windshield being smoked by several huge rocks that flew out of the sky.
I pull into my garage, walk in and immediately put my clothes into the washer, just in case the Z-Virus attached itself to my jacket or jeans. I go give my son and husband a kiss and exhale. They are my rocks.
I start to play with my son and he starts to grab my baby hair horns that are sticking up from my forehead. I then realize how weird everything has been and that I should have just stayed home because I am literally having a BAD HAIR DAY. I knew the hairs looked ridiculous. I did. I even snapped it on snapchat:
I made fun of myself. I laughed. But I didn't think it was that noticeable until my 9 month old son grabbed them my the reigns and started tugging at them like I was a horse needing to giddy-up.
This is just a small example of what these two weeks have been like. I would like to say that weird things generally happen to me more than other people and I typically brush it off, laugh and think "not the end of the world." And I have laughed, cried and have been reminded of how lucky, blessed and grateful I am for my life and family since 2017 has started.
But not this.
I now have to wear headbands.
As I sit and chat with a friend about how my (at-the-time) 7 month old is doing, the inevitable question is asked: "So, how long are you planning to breastfeed?"
I shutter. And then take a deep breath. I wrapped my hands around my coffee mug, pause and take a sip. I smile, but it’s a forced smile. And then my answer:
"The goal is one year."
One year. I didn't think it would be hard. After all, it's just breastfeeding.
Rewind to February 2016. I was about 7 months pregnant and I asked all my friends that are also mothers how their deliveries went. Was it scary? Was it painful? Were you excited? What did you not know about? Tell me everything - not just the happy stuff, I want to know the nitty-gritty. I like to be prepared for everything. But what I missed was the warning about breastfeeding and the difficulties that come with it. Doctors encourage birthing classes, friends will tell you about their deliveries and everyone warns you about the post-partum depression signs. No one told me about breastfeeding.
Recently, I've been seeing photos of breastfeeding mothers, baby latched looking calm, almost asleep and moma looking beautiful, well-rested and confident. Picture perfect right? If you're reading this and struggled with breastfeeding, you're probably starting to feel exactly how I felt - because the more and more I talk about breastfeeding with other mothers, the more I realize that these picture-perfect photographs with the tree roots stemming from the mom to the baby is a moment that rarely happens.
I take a deep breath when I say "The goal is one year" because breastfeeding is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Let me elaborate:
Nursing didn't come naturally. In the beginning, it was stressful. Really stressful. You're told to time your nursing sessions.
So I timed each session and tracked away. And then I analyzed. And then questioned. "Why did he only nurse for 160 minutes that day when we were averaging 203 minutes? Is something wrong? Is the latch bad? Am I producing enough? Maybe he's allergic to something I'm eating?" and on and on and on.
"The Goal is one year..."
And then there were people in my life that didn't understand the benefits - mainly because their generation were told formula is a better option. It's healthier because it has more vitamins. And if I wanted Beck to sleep through the night, we should be doing formula. I received 'advice' of all sorts from mixing a little formula in with my milk to simply being told I can't provide everything my son needs solely by myself. It was hard. I cried a ton and I still vividly remember calling my mom and breaking down telling her the things people would say to me and listening to her reason and explain where they were coming from. And then me crying some more.
"The Goal is one year..."
I quickly learned that trying to nurse in the middle of the night while you are exhausted is a recipe for disaster. But the worst experience of a bad latch was when we were coming home from a trip in the mountains and we stopped at Twin Lakes for the view, to get Beck out of the car seat, nurse him and get some fresh air. He latched, I said ouch and then he started screaming. I looked down and there was blood all over my boob and his face. Sheer panic sets in and then of course, we still have a little over two hours left in the car and he doesn't want to try again, even on the other side. The best part, pumping it out after you have a crack that size. Miserable doesn't even begin to describe that car ride.
"The Goal is one year..."
At about 3.5 months, my son started to slow down with nursing - but my supply didn't match. I ended up with an oversupply - something I always thought was a good thing because I kept seeing my new mom friends posting their facebook "look at my freezer stockpile of breastmilk" photos. I quickly learned that it isn't that great of a thing as my son couldn't handle the let down and because there was sooo much milk, he never could get to the rich, fatty milk he needed to help soothe his belly. He would kick, scream and cry as he drowned in milk while trying to nurse. I felt like a failure. I cried with him and I never have felt so helpless. Anyone that has experienced this knows exactly what kind of cry I'm talking about and how heart-wrenching it is to listen to your baby struggle when you're told over and over that "breastfeeding is so beautiful and the most natural thing you'll ever do."
"The goal is one year..."
Because of the oversupply issue, we started to feed him with bottles instead and I began pumping. He refused to nurse once he got used of the bottles. For four months, I exclusively pumped. Every three to four hours, I pumped for 30-60 minutes. I pumped. And I pumped some more. I was miserable. People would be confused and didn't understand why I didn't just nurse him. I felt like a failure, again. I saw the #normalizebreastfeeding photos and couldn't help but feel jealous. I wanted to be normal. I wanted to be able to be that mom that could nurse her child and her child be happy and peaceful. I also wanted to look like I was well-rested, happy and in love with nursing.
The goal is one year... I'm currently almost to nine months of breastfeeding without giving my son formula. We are now, finally, just getting the hang of nursing, although he will occasionally still refuse and boycott. I rarely pumped for the last two weeks and have felt like a more "normal" human. I will occasionally get "touched out" and need an hour to myself outside of the house. I still hate and yet feel envious of the #normalizebreastfeeding photos. I still get asked "How long?" "Why don't you just stop?" "Is it really that hard?" And I still stress and worry if he’s getting enough, if today is the day we should give him a bottle of formula and so on.
And to be honest, I don't know how long I'll breastfeed for. It could be for one more month or it could be for two years. I'm slowly beginning to feel comfortable with it and it's become much easier for the both of us. I write this and want to share my experience because I think so many women go into it just like I did - thinking it's easy, it's natural and will be this beautiful experience. So many of my tears and stress came from breastfeeding because I felt bad for not enjoying it and struggling with it. I hated that I didn't take classes before birth that focused on nursing, learning about the best practices and tips to help. But mostly, I write this because breastfeeding is difficult and other women just starting to go through it should know they aren't alone, they aren't failing and aren't abnormal for not taking to it "naturally".
Here’s to, hopefully, at least another three months.
There are several types/brands to cloth diapers. There are the white cloth sheets you fold and pin, snap diapers, velcro diapers, rubber pants, inserts etc. There's also a plethora of opinions about washing and caring for them. Here's what I think you need to know:
White Cloth Sheet Diapers. These are basically the old school cloth diapers. They come in super handy for putting UNDER your babes bum while changing them (if babe has a pretty big mess, it'll get on the cloth instead of the carpet, changing pad or where ever else you're changing them). They're cheap, made really well and super easy to clean.
Snap Cloth Diapers. I found that snaps are really difficult. You have a wiggly baby which makes getting snaps together difficult (just try snapping a nightie in the middle of the night) and the snaps can sometimes require the diaper be a little too tight or a little too loose. I found it's really hard to get it to fit perfectly. Did I mention the snaps? I hate the snaps.
Velcro Cloth Diapers. The Velcro makes it feel more like using a disposable diaper. It's super convenient and quick to change. They fit really well too. Only downside - the velcro diapers become a mess in the wash and get tangled.
Rubber Pants. These are little 'rubber' diapers you put OVER the cloth diaper to prevent leaks. Most modern day diapers come with this material already built into them.
Cloth Liners. These are hands-down what makes cloth diapers so easy. They line the inside of the diaper and catches the 'mess' and you then throw away leaving the soiled diaper to be cleaned.
Cloth Wet Pads/Inserts. These are thick pads that soak up the mess. Some diapers require them and some don't. They range from hybrid-disposables to cloth reusables and are made of all sorts of materials ranging from organic bamboo fibers to soft fleece.
Now that we have the 101 down, I'd like to chat about the two brands I've used.
We currently use GDiapers. I am in love with this company. The designs are ultra-cute, secured by velcro and comes with a little rubber pant pouches, which you then insert a cloth (or disposable) insert. Although we will have an occasional pee leak, we've never had an actual blowout like we do when using a disposable diaper. We also use a cloth liner on top of the insert which catches the solids and makes it easier to clean in the wash.
I've also tried Rumparooz. Super cute designs, snap closures and features a 'one-size'fits-all' design. These also have a pocket where you literally shove the insert into (which means you'll then need to stick your hand/wand into to pull out to clean). They work great but again, the snaps - I can never get it to fit perfectly and trying to snaps these things in the middle of the night is frustrating.
On to cleaning:
We have the Diaper Dekor bin and use a Planet Wise, washable bag to collect the diapers. I love it because we don't have to go buy more trash bags and for clean up, all I have to do is empty the bag by turning it inside out and throwing it all into the wash. I keep a small bottle of vinegar in the nursery and if there happens to be a pretty bad diaper, I'll put a tad bit of vinegar into the bin with it to help dissolve smell and keep any mold/fungus at bay. Speaking of mold/fungus - I read horror stories about opening up bins and having mushrooms growing. YOU HAVE TO WASH EVERY DAY, or at least every other. Otherwise, yes, you'll be asking for some crazy stuff to grow and smell. We also keep a small metal trash bin next to the changing station which is where wipes, liners and disposables (we use disposable diapers if we're traveling or if we left all the clean diapers in the dryer and it's 2 am). Side note - use a wipe to pick up and throw away the soiled liner (you don't need to buy a special wand).
All of our diapers are Gpants with gpant inserts and liners. Right now, we're on size medium and still fit great. They get washed on the heavy soil load every other day and once a week steamed. The detergent we use is ALL Free and Clear. I did purchase double the amount of inserts compared to diapers so that we can throw them out in the sun to help bleach them if they get really stinky/dingy. After the wash, I pull apart the diapers (remember the velcro) and close each diaper and throw them in the dryer (along with the inserts) on timed dry at the lowest heat possible until dry. DO NOT use a standard dryer sheet - this will leave a waxy type film and hinder the amount of absorbancy the inserts can take. I will occasionally put in a wet Honest brand baby dryer sheet or a drop of essential oil to give them a nice smell if needed. You can also leave the inserts and diapers hang to dry to give your dryer a break. ---- Clean up is that easy. We don't do a diaper service and diapers are cleaned almost every day.
After using cloth diapers, I honestly hate using disposables. It's nice to not have to purchase diapers over and over and if the "Really? I just put a new diaper on you and you go and let out the biggest mess?" feelings aren't there simply because you reuse. As for the amount of diapers - we have 12 diapers and 24 inserts. We could purchase more and do laundry every other day but as I said, working from home means I have time to clean.
"Well, the worst that could happen is that I have morning sickness for the rest of the pregnancy." That was me. I distinctly remember talking to my sister and brother-in-law about how sick I was and their encouraging words about how the "morning" sickness should almost be over.
Unfortunately, I have been that one pregnant lady sick the entire time. I honestly can't say that I enjoy being pregnant - it's tough stuff and I give props to the women that love it. And don't get me wrong, I love our baby, feeling the kicks and having such an intimate relationship that I only can experience with him/her. But actually being pregnant, no thanks.
First, I want to be clear on my level of "sick". Some women have morning sickness - throw up once in the morning and are good to go for the rest of the day. Others are queasy but never actually get sick. And then some women have it extremely bad, like myself. In the beginning, I was fine. The first 6 weeks (although we had other major complications) I felt pretty good for nausea - off but good. And then it hit.
And whenever I write "morning" sickness, I laugh. Because they lie - it's "all day" sickness. Great days, I'd throw up twice, felt disgusting the rest of the day but managed. Average days, I went running for the garbage or toilet about five to ten times a day. The worst day, I threw up over 40 times, I could barely move and at 3 am, I threw in the towel and made my husband drive me to the emergency room. I researched everything on how to manage - saltine crackers, eating in the middle of the night, skipping certain foods, preggie pops, ginger ale, etc. Here's how I survived nine months of "morning" sickness:
Today, I'm sharing a personal story. I've spoken to so many women about their pregnancy experiences and the excitement, shame, grief and stress always seems to be an outstanding echo. Many have said that once a successful pregnancy happens, they no longer want to talk about how hard it had been while they were trying. I truly believe that talking more openly about our experiences, trials and tribulations will help women of all backgrounds, struggling or not to become pregnant, find support.
This is our story as I wrote it several weeks ago:
We started the year out in hopes of once again starting a family. Being a wedding photographer first. we tried planning the pregnancy with delivering in my slow season, winter. Months went by and again, nothing. We never got our hopes crushed but in July, we decided to stop trying.
We ended July in a bang, a trip to Mexico to celebrate the marriage of two friends. It was a fabulous trip accept every night, I became extremely ill. Severe stomach pain, and flu-like symptoms that would only last a few hours into the night and after throwing up several times and taking a pain reliever, would it go away and I could get back to sleep. I honestly thought it was something I ate - maybe the water. Or even, that time of month was approaching. I kept talking about it to my husband, and I finally said, maybe I'm pregnant. The day we were checking out of the hotel, I had a feeling something was up. I felt off... I got car sick, I got plane sick, I had more cramping.
We got home and I went straight to our bathroom. After waiting a few minutes, every single test came back positive. I had taken a test right before we left and it said negative. I went down stairs and just smiled at my husband and he looked at me and gave me a huge hug and asked if it was for real. We were pregnant.
I went four days without any severe pain and then the symptoms came back, but more aggressive. I had already made our first appointment and scan weeks down the road, started a Pinterest board for the nursery and we told our parents the day after finding out. We were thrilled. I remember so clearly telling our parents that I wanted them to know just in case something 'were to happen'. That Friday night, not even a week later from finding out, I slept all night hovered over, throwing up. I called the doctors and they said "Cramping is normal." I called them again, hours later, and they finally said, "I'm sure it's nothing, but let's get you in on Monday just to be sure."
That Monday, one week exactly after finding out, we walked into the doctor's office. I was excited, I was nervous. I was a million emotions. We had our scan and the words from her mouth burned in my ears, "Well, I'm not seeing a baby." She said she was going to get the doctor and put us into a different room. As we sat there waiting, I asked my husband hundreds of questions. We didn't know what was happening. Why didn't we see a baby? Why would she say that to us?
The nurse practitioner walked in and her first words were, "I'm sorry. You don't have a baby. What we're seeing is a Molar Pregnancy. It's nothing that you did and there was nothing that you could have done." I looked at her stunned. I kept thinking, "What do you mean? The tests said I was pregnant." I broke down in tears and my husband started hugging me. She started asking me questions about if I've been in pain, how sick I've been and started explaining our scans. I honestly don't remember much of what she said until she got to the point of saying, "We need to schedule you for an emergency surgery to remove the cysts and the molar pregnancy. After that, we'll monitor you for the next year to make sure it hasn't turned into cancer cells." What? Cancer? How could this be happening to me. All I could do is cry and look at my husband. She asked us, "Was this a pregnancy that was wanted?" as she handed me tissues. My husband answered for me and said "Yes, we've been wanting to start a family." She said she was sorry, gave us paperwork to get the bloodwork started and left the room.
I stood there in the cold room, trying so hard to not cry. My husband walked over to the door, shut it and came back over to me and hugged me and didn't let go. I don't remember what or if he said anything. We just cried together. After what seemed like an hour, I got my composure together and we walked out the door up to get my bloodwork done. I couldn't speak the entire time. I didn't want people to see me cry or know something terrible was happening to me.
We got into the car and I again, broke down. I could barely breath. I was angry. I was sad. I felt like a failure. My husband drove us home and I called my parents right away. The only words I got out were "Hi... " and then tears. Brent, my husband, got on the phone and told them what was happening. I couldn't speak it. After a while, I was able to talk to them again and asked them to tell my siblings and let them know I'd be going in for surgery later that week. We told Brent's parents as well and then a few days later, our best friends. We knew we needed support.
Two days later, the doctor called and said, "Your bloodwork came back. It's normal and they're amazing numbers. We'd like you to come back in." I again, went back had tests done and again, my levels were 'beautiful and normal'. We had a scan not even a week later and met with a different doctor with more experience (which is who I originally had wanted to see when I made my first prenatal appointment). We went through my cycle, tests, the scans - everything. Internally, I was covered in cysts. There was no heartbeat or signs of a fetal pole. But I couldn't shake the feeling that ending the pregnancy without being certain it was truly a molar pregnancy, was wrong. I asked her, "Is it dangerous for me if we wait one more week?" The doctor agreed and said we could give it a few more days.
The most heart-wrenching and emotionally straining task was to answer the phone every day after our initial appointment and to be asked if we had changed our mind about scheduling the abortion.
One week later, we went in for more bloodwork and another scan. Out of some miracle, there was a heartbeat. Somehow, what looked like blobs of cysts in my womb, a little heartbeat had formed. The doctor came in after and spoke "Well, you officially have a heart beat which means we can't advise you to end the pregnancy unless you elect to do so. But, with that said, I don't think this pregnancy will survive."
We had weekly appointments and scans for the next month. Each appointment and scan showed improvement and my levels stayed healthy. But, I began to get sick. Extremely sick. Morning sickness is not what I would call it. As each appointment got better, the sickness became stronger. On average, I would throw up about twenty times a day. I tried every home remedy, food and wives tale out there. I was so happy to keep seeing improvement with our baby but at the same time, extremely exhausted and upset that I couldn't enjoy the pregnancy finally because I was so sick. I felt like a regular at the doctor's office and we were unfortunately, able to experience the amazing emergency room staff at the hospital we would be delivering at in April. But somehow, we kept seeing improvement even with the weight loss, illness and complications.
Here we are now, at almost 30 weeks. Our baby is thriving and let's me know it every few hours. The doctors have said they can't believe the journey we've been through and that if they were to look a scan from today, they would have never of known our pregnancy didn't start out perfect. I no longer have any cysts and our baby is actually growing, to their guestimate, a few days ahead of schedule. I truly believe it's a miracle and can't fathom what would have happened if we decided to simply end the pregnancy.
I am so excited to share Beck's modern Bohemian Woodland Nursery featuring a white and gray color palate with hints of yellows, greens and purples. I wanted to create a gender neutral room that was still fun and full of personality. Naturally, I love 1950's modern designs so I picked furniture that went well with that design in mind but still kept things comfy, like the chair for example, so we could easily rock Beck to sleep and maybe even fall asleep there ourselves. Enjoy!
Above: Cream Bear: Restoration Hardware | Husky Dog: Amazon |
Vintage Viewfinder Camera: Fischer-Price | Pink Bear: Vintage - Sara's Baby Bear
Below: Stay Wild Letters were made by Sara's mother
and decorated by friends and family at the baby shower
Cloth diapers were made by hand my Sara's mother. The couple plans to use a combination of cloth and disposable diapers from Honest Company, including organic powder, balms and essential oils.
The rosary was made by Brenton's late grandfather.
It was one of the last things he gave the couple before passing away.
Photography: Sara Lynn Photographic | Crib: Babyletto | Rocking Chair: Baxton Studio | Shelf: Ikea |
Dresser: Vintage - Refinished | Rug: Threshold | Tee-Pee Tent: DIY - tutorial to Come |
Printable Watercolor Animals: Free Download from 'we lived happily ever after' |
Diaper Bag: Neive Bag from Humble Hilo | Baby Mobile: DIY | Fur Footstool: DIY |
Lights: DIY and Lampshades from Ikea | Metal Side Table: Embossed Metal St. Laurent Trash Can |
Baby Registry: Babylist
Cozy up and warm your bellies with this "Baby, it's Cold Outside" baby shower put together for Momma-to-Be Sara Lynn, of Sara Lynn Photographic, planned by Organically You Events and featuring greens and florals by Emma Lea Floral. This shower warmed our hearts and we can't get enough of the TeePee Tent Gift station, bohemian décor and did we mention, some pin-worthy deer cookies?